Epitaph
by Saber Wing
Summary: I don't like bullies. That includes you.


Steve Rogers reached out to trace the name carved into the marble before him. He'd thought his heart would be heavier. Instead, all he could find within were questions.

Part of him felt strange, daring to carry such censure for the dead. Such disapproval, for a man who could no longer answer to the accusations springing from his tongue.

Though Howard Stark, for all his contradictions, had done plenty to earn it.

He threaded his fingers through his hair – a nervous habit he'd never been able to break. "I wish you were here to explain yourself, old friend."

The sorrow was there, of course. Steve could feel it seizing his chest, rising up to choke the breath from his lungs. He missed his friend, the man he'd known. And even though this wasn't the first time he'd come to visit his grave, he felt he might as well be looking at a different headstone now, considering what he knew.

Howard was never a warm or affectionate man, but Steve once thought he'd been a good one. Despite any bad decisions he might have made in his life, he had devoted his work to science, to the betterment of society and the world they lived in. The more he learned about Stark Industries, however, and the legacy they left behind, the more he had to wonder.

Yes. Howard made numerous mistakes, and Steve saw every one of them etched into Tony's soul.

 _Tony._

 _My co-leader._

 _My best friend._

"He thinks nothing of himself, you know. I'm beginning to realize that. He can't face what he has become, so he hides behind his wit, his work, and his sarcasm. He wants so badly to do good, except, he doesn't know how to do it any better than he already has. And no matter how many lives he saves, he can't drown out the screams."

Steve paused, swallowing hard as he buried his face in his hands.

"Maybe it's unfair of me to blame you. He is his own person, with his own strengths and weaknesses, and he's responsible for who he is and who he becomes. I have to wonder though, where he learned these bad habits from. Why I've never seen or heard anything personal about his life to suggest you were ever in it."

The headstone remained silent and still, letters jumping out as if to mock him. Not that Steve expected any different.

"Sometimes I can see it. The hurt in his eyes. That desperation to be worth something he can't buy with his money. I've read the news articles, seen the reports, and I have to wonder where you were when he decided to become an alcoholic before he could even buy liquor. I have to wonder why the media reported that he graduated with honors from MIT, and CEO Howard Stark was at a meeting abroad. I have to wonder why I mention your name, and he stiffens up and shuts me out quicker than his Iron Man suits ever could."

Abruptly, Steve realized he was glaring, gaze drilling into the words on this silent hunk of rock before him. There were few things that frustrated him more than speaking to someone who couldn't provide the answers he sought.

"I guess I'm having a hard time connection the man I knew with the man you became. What happened, Howard? Were you always as cold as they say? Was I blind to it?"

Again, no answer. The grass merely swayed in the breeze, strands brushing harmlessly against the leg of his jeans, and the pristine, polished grave.

Time. Here, it stood still. Frozen, as he'd been not so very long ago...

Startled, he realized his cell phone was vibrating in his pocket. He nearly jumped, amusing as that might have looked to some. Steve dug it out and answered without delay, disoriented. For a moment it seemed unreal that there was still a world outside of his own bitter thoughts, but of course there was.

 _Life goes on._

"Yes?"

He must have sounded as distracted as he felt, because the voice on the other end of the line chuckled. Steve's heart skipped a beat when he realized it was Tony.

 _Ears must have been burning._

"Oh, sorry Cap, I hope I didn't interrupt another rousing, heroic monologue. Let me guess, something to do with justice? Teamwork? Patriotism?"

Steve allowed himself a smile.

 _If he knew he was right, he'd never let me live it down._

"All of them, but I suppose I can save it for later. What's on your mind, Tony?"

"Well, see, I'm having this thing after AA tonight. Movies, popcorn. The whole gang. We can hang out. I'll buy pizza. You like pizza right? 'cause if you do, I can buy you a parlor. I have that power, you know. Come on, you in? What do you say? I'll even let you pick. I'm just a team player like that."

He held back a chuckle. Some things never changed. "Sounds great. I'll be back at the tower around seven?"

"See you then, Cap. Oh, and leave your disapproving scowl in your room. Nobody wants to see that. Unless Hawkeye drinks the marinara sauce again. In which case, scowl. Scowl all you want."

This time, Steve did chuckle. He could already feel his dark mood lifting, despite where he still sat, at the foot of Howard's grave. "No promises."

"Hey, by the way: how's the new suit working out for you? It's not too tight, is it? Because I could easily tweak it a bit, maybe add some more stuff for you. Oh, and I updated the music on your i-Pod, too. You're welcome."

Steve's heart twinged. It hurt to think Tony liked to make and buy them things because he thought that was all he had. Money. Material possessions. That didn't mean he couldn't appreciate the gestures for what they were though.

Acts of love.

"No, it's perfect, and so was the music. I was going to thank you for that. You know I love Sinatra."

Steve could practically hear the glow in Tony's voice when he replied.

"Any time, Spangles. See you when I see you."

Steve disconnected and pocketed the phone, mind drifting back to the task at hand. To what he came here to do, heart full to bursting.

"God, I love that man. I'll never understand what you could have done to make him believe he was worth less to you than your work, because you know what, Howard? I don't think he was. I think you loved him more than you knew what to do with. Maybe you lost sight of that. Focused so hard on when, you forgot about _now._ He'd hate me for saying so, but he's like that too. He wants to be more than he is. A dangerous thing, when you're not sure who you are to begin with. _"_

Steve shook his head and stood up slowly from his crouch, hand still resting on top of the smooth marble finish of the headstone.

He was finished here. It was time to leave the past where it belonged. He would lay it all to rest with the man who lie beneath.

But not before he frowned down at the headstone one final time. At the cold, gray-white marble, etched with the name of a dead man he'd once loved.

A man he still loved, perhaps, but that didn't change the truth.

 _I miss my friend._

 _But..._

"I don't like bullies. That includes you."


End file.
